


Wrong

by Glowstickia



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Cigarettes, Flirting, Kissing, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29847648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glowstickia/pseuds/Glowstickia
Summary: After being kicked out of the Memory Den, Nick needed a smoke and to be left alone with his thoughts. Hancock had other plans in mind.
Relationships: John Hancock/Nick Valentine
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my [Mystery Word](https://falloutglow.tumblr.com/post/637529275038416896/mystery-list) prompts!
> 
> Hancock/Nick Valentine - A8 Wrong
> 
> Another fic I wrote back in December while on vacation. Was flipping through the notebook recently and realized it's just been sitting in there.

_ ‘No more.’ _

Dr. Amari’s words swirled in his head as Nick breathed out wisps of smoke. The doc was… perhaps right. Using the Memory Den for its intended services always left him a little discombobulated.

It helped him dig through Old Nick’s life… make the memories a little stronger, more  _ real. _ The emotions and sensations Old Nick felt...overpowered his own. The raw emotions of a man who saw injustice in a broken world and clung onto whatever he could while everything else crumbled around him.

It was like an itch Nick couldn’t scratch.

Nick stared at the cigarette stub between his fingers and debated how beneficial another one would be.

“Fancy seeing you here, Nicky.”

Nick blinked and turned towards the voice.

Hancock smirked as he lit his own cigarette and took a long, deep drag. “Hiding in a dark alleyway? Thought you were better than that.” He teased as smoke curled out of his mouth.

Nick rolled his eyes as he snuffed out the last of his cigarette against the brick wall. “John,” he greeted, as his hands went inside his trench coat pockets. The pack in his pocket was crumpled, mostly from accidentally applying a bit too much force when trying to grab the pack...

Soon as Nick had gotten one cigarette free, Hancock flipped open his lighter. Fire flickered as Nick and Hancock’s eyes met.

“Thanks.”

Hancock’s lips curled. “Don’t mention it.” he said, clicking the lighter close and shoving it into his pocket. He took another drag while Nick remained silent as he leaned against the wall. “Something on your mind, Nick?” he asked while smoke swirled out from his lips.

Nick grunted as he sorted through what to even say. The cigarette could only buy him so much time while the good doctor’s words continued to play in his head like an old record stuck repeating the same words on loop in his head.

_ No more. No more. No more. _

“Amari kicked me out.” Nick joked, hoping his tone didn’t betray him.

Hancock gave Nick a puzzling look. He chuckled nervously. “Aw, you flirted with Irma again didn’t ya.” he smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes as his hand reached up to pat Nick’s shoulder. “I know what’ll cheer ya up.” Nick raised a brow. “Booze and jazz, eh? Mag’ll be singin’ here soon.”

“I dunno if I’m done brooding yet.”

Hancock laughed. “Aw, c’mon Nicky. Gotta loosen those ol’ bolts of yours.” He elbowed him, “Pleaaaaase?~”

Nick’s mouth twitched as he tried hard not to ‘swallow’ his cigarette. Hancock leaned against him while his arm hooked onto Nick’s.

“I don’t know.” Nick said, eyeing the cigarette while Hancock continued to smoosh himself against Nick.

“Come on, Nick.” Hancock’s dark eyes shined a little as Nick ‘gave in’ and looked at him. “Nothin’ wrong with loosening up a little. What can I do to sweeten the pot?”

Nick tensed a little as several  _ very  _ undignified ideas flashed through his mind. While he was used to certain thoughts bursting through his conscious, the fact they chose  _ now _ of all times startled him. And boy, was he thankful the Institute didn’t give him the capability to blush.

Nick cleared his throat as a means to shake away the suggestive thoughts Hancock implied in tone. “Well, uh-“

Hancock dropped his cigarette butt, stomped it out and tugged Nick down a little with his tie. “How about it?” He growled.

Nick blinked. “You sure you got the right bot?”

“Positive.” Hancock said, searching Nick’s eyes, “but only if you’re willing, Nicky.”

Nick leaned in a bit more before whispering. “I’m willing.”

The kiss was short, hesitant, and tasted of smoke. Both men’s hats were askew, pushed by each other’s hats. Hancock smiled at him, his hand was still wrapped up in Nick’s tie. “Why don’t we just skip the booze and jazz, eh?”

Nick chuckled. “That eager, huh?”

Hancock rolled his eyes and swiped Nick’s cigarette. “Alright, fiiiine.” He gave Nick another quick kiss before slowly releasing his grip on Nick’s tie. “I can wait if it means getting one dance outta ya.” He took a long drag of Nick’s cigarette.

Nick readjusted his hat and smirked. “It’s a date.”


End file.
